Tuesday, March 15, 2016

MIKEY AND NICKY (1976)...

For her follow-up to The Heartbreak Kid - a nearly perfect movie – Elaine May wrote and
directed Mikey and Nicky. This small, tense film proved she had more on
her mind than comedy. It also showed her neurotic side;the movie became legendary for her months
ofshooting and editing ( it was made in
1973 but not released for three years)and the end result is wobbly, as if it had been put together by someone
with a mean case of obsessive compulsive disorder. Still, it was a work of uncommon
emotion and innovation, portraying a sweaty standoff between a pair of desperate
small timers seemingly named after May’s old comedy partner – Mike Nichols.

It’s difficult to explain the effect the
movie had on me when I first saw it in the late 1980s. It had been resurrected
for a weekend showing at a small Boston art cinema. I sat mesmerized by the
performances of John Cassavetes and Peter Falk. To hell with Brando, De Niro,
and the other jittery exhibitionists; Cassavetes and Falk had ‘em all whipped.
Later, I found Mikey and Nicky on VHS
and showed it to some friends. They were bored.

They weren’t alone. The movie didn't connect with audiences when it was released in Dec. 1976, falling into the deep footprints left by Rocky and the King Kong remake. Syndicated columnist
Bernard Drew called Mikey and Nicky “an undisciplined self-indulgence.”Critic John Simon called it a “morose
and morbid mess,” and compared the work of Cassavetes and Falk to being “locked
into the Actors’ Studio for a week – a fate worse than any hell, Dante’s,
Sartre’s, and Hieronymus Bosch’s included.” Simon’s main beef was that May left
out “much needed exposition,” and that the character’s backgrounds remained
murky. Yet, this murkiness is what gives the film its intrigue. Mikey and Nicky are old pals, and
that’s all we need to know. We understand that these men are criminals because
they carry small pistols and talk about a mysterious boss named “Resnick.” But
despite the vague underworld backdrop, the movie is really about the abuses and pitfalls of friendship.

The relationship of the two men is established
almost immediately. Nicky summons Mikey to meet him at his hotel room. Mikey
arrives and one of the first things he says is, “Is it your stomach? You should
eat something. You want to get peritonitis?” As Mikey, Falk hovers over Nicky
like an old nanny. Nicky, meanwhile, suspects someone is trying to kill him. Nicky’s
irrational, crazed;Mikey tries to calm
him down. Nicky’s wild-eyed fear turns out to have merit. Not only is a hitman
stalking him, but old buddy Mikey has helped set him up.

From there the plot surges into “high concept”
territory. Nicky needs to get out of town and wants Mikey to help him.
Meanwhile, Mikey wants to confine Nicky to one spot so the hired gunman can do
his job. Since Nicky is too scared to sit still, his frenzied energy brings him
and Mikey through the past darkly. They find themselves in seedy bars, all night movies, a crosstown bus, the cemetery where Nicky’s mother is buried, and in the apartment of a melancholy
hooker who will only put out if you say “I love you.” It’s through these
episodes that the inner workings of Mikey and Nicky’s bond come to light. Nicky
is a jerk and a bully. Mikey puts up with him. It’s been this way since they
were kids, and it’s beginning to boil over.

The movie’s first scene, set in Nicky’s
shabby hotel, is a brilliant realization of paranoid terror. Nicky’s been holed
up for days, and appears to be having a mental breakdown. But how much of it is
an act? As soon as Mikey gets him outside, Nicky seems less deranged, almost
normal. He likes trouble, though. He agitates the black customers of a
poolroom, and comes to blows with a bus driver who won’t let him smoke. Nicky’s
a grown man with the heart of a punk. He laughs hysterically at his own jokes,
especially when they’re at Mikey’s expense. The closest Nicky comes to any sort
of introspection is late in the movie when he says, “I don’t know what’s
wrong with me. I guess I like to show off.”

The action moves jerkily through late night
Philadelphia while John Strauss’ hazy jazz score rises and falls. Mikey and
Nicky ramble around. They talk about their dead mothers, and the mystery of
death.They check out a midnight Kung Fu
movie. At times, Mikey appears to regret arranging the hit. He makes calls to
the gunman, apologizing for not being able to produce Nicky. The night seems
endless.

There are moments when Nicky appears to
know about Mikey’s involvement with the killer. He demands they switch coats,
to confuse any would be assassins. The interchangeability of
the two goes on throughout the movie: both are married with one child, both
have lost their parents, both are on the low rung of a local crime
organization, and when Nicky visits his hooker friend, he insists Mikey take a
turn with her.When that turns
disastrous – the woman bites Mikey on the mouth – Mikey reveals a lifetime of
anger at Nicky for always making a fool of him. That brings us to the final
act, where Mikey finally joins the contract killer in pursuit of Nicky.

Though Nicky is an unlikable brute, Mikey
isn’t much better. A man who prides himself on his marriage, he’s only too
happy to try the prostitute. He’s also just as quick to use violence as Nicky.
The difference between them is that Mikey will feel guilty about Nicky’s death.
If the roles were reversed, Nicky wouldn’t feel a thing. He’s too dense.

We're shown brief scenes of the two men with
their wives, but these moments are a distraction
from the real story. Mikey’s time with his wife, however, has an unexpected warmth to it. “Do
you like hearing about my childhood?” he asks her. He knows that Nicky’s murder
will knock a hole in his past. (In Denmark, the movie was released as Chased by the Past, which is an apt title.)

The most fascinating aspect of the movie is
how the two characters, especially Nicky, regress to childlike behavior as the
killer closes in. Nicky even stops into a drug store to buy candy and comic
books, as if surrounding himself with simple totems of his youth will stave off
death.At one point he starts to sing
‘Yankee Doodle Dandy,’ recalling the old Cagney movie he probably saw as a kid.
When he and Mikey start fighting in the street, they look like less like
middle-aged men than little boys tussling in a playground.

There are excellent turns from supporting
actors. Ned Beatty is especially good as the flustered hitman, battling the
Philly traffic, fearing he may have to report to Resnick that he’s failed in
his mission. M. Emmet Walsh, only onscreen for a few minutes, is memorable as a bus driver who clashes with Nicky, and Carol
Grace, in one of her few movie roles, steals her scenes as Nellie, the mob
whore. Rose Arrick is surprisingly sweet as Mikey’s wife, giving a sense that
he’s not so bad around the house, even if he’s a third-rate hoodlum on the
street. Still, it’s Cassavetes and Falk who run the ball in this one, as if
whatever they’d learned together in Cassavetes’ self-directed films came to a
perfect summation here. Ironically, Mikey and Nicky is often added to
conversations about Cassavetes’ oeuvre, as if he’d directed it himself. In fact, I
prefer it to many of his films. It’s as if Elaine May beat Cassavetes at his
own game. And despite the film's improvised feel, a 1971
interview with Falk has him praising May’s script as “the best movie I’ve ever
read.”

There’s an impeccable scene where Nicky, in
a show of supreme callousness, smashes Mikey’s watch on the street. For Mikey,
this is the last straw. The watch had been a gift from his father, a symbol of the
old days. Under street lights, they search for the busted pieces, trying to
save what’s left of the watch, and, in effect, their mutual history.

The final scene, with Nicky pounding on the
door of Mikey’s home as the hitman takes aim, is the ending Nicky deserves. The
film started at Nicky’s hotel, dragged itself around Philadelphia, and ended at
Mikey’s house in the suburbs, with Mikey shoving furniture against the door to
keep Nicky out. Nicky sees the hitman. He
screams, “Wait a second,” but time has run out for him. It’s shattered on the
sidewalk, back in the city. And Mikey gets what he deserves, too: Nicky's blood on his door, linking them forever, and implicating him in the hit.

Mikey and Nicky is complex, nuanced, and difficult to watch. People have valid
reasons for not liking it. It is, after all, a bit of a jumble, and we never
really learn why Resnick has ordered Nicky’s death. Still, I’ve never seen a
clearer depiction of a frazzled friendship. Watching this movie may leave you
wondering if you’ve been square with your own friends. Have you always returned
their calls? Have you talked about them behind their backs? Do you secretly resent
them? Are you a Mikey, or a Nicky?

About Me

I write for various magazines, including the great CINEMA RETRO, and the Film Noir Foundation's official magazine, Noir City. Check them out if you love movies.

I currently serve as the editorial consultant for thefilmdetective.tv, a movie streaming service that does everything from restoring old films to selling a vast collection of DVDs. Download our classic movie app!

Along with movie and arts coverage, I've written about boxing for The Ring, and ESPN.com; I've written true crime stories for the short-lived HUB; and I occasionally publish historical tales in Wild West magazine. I've also written for a bunch of newspapers in the Boston area.

THIS DAZZLING TIME is where you'll find a bit of everything. I appreciate having your attention for a moment or two.